A Dawn with the Wolf Knight (Married to Magic, #5)

by Elise Kova

I’m the witch in the cottage.

“I made a request of an old god, long, long ago, for the body of a human…and my wish was granted.”

“To kill me,” she continues grimly, as if forcing the words, “it would take intent by a mortal hand in a magical act. Hunger cannot kill me, but a charmed stake driven through my heart could.”

“Now tell us where the ring is,” he demands. “I told you, I don’t have it anymore.” Aurora stares up at him with the slightest bit of smugness. “And you’ll never find it, either. A wolf king will never again hold my power.” “How dare—Your absence has almost caused the loss of a generation of pups and a new age of bloodshed, yet you sit there with your obnoxious little smile, as if you’re all too pleased for it—as if you can abandon your duty. You serve us.” “Were I a servant, I might at least be offered a modicum of respect. No, your wicked kings have made me a slave,” Aurora says with more venom and hate and pain than I had thought possible from her. A deep sorrow courses through me. “But I will be free. One way or another. Damn the lykin.” The man raises his other hand as a fist. “How dare you⁠—” “Enough, Bardulf.”

“Let her go.” Evander steps forward. “She’s not our concern.” He grinds out every word. “She made her our concern when she stole the ring.” Bardulf squeezes even tighter. I gasp like a fish on land. “Where is it?” he snarls in my ear. I can’t answer. “She doesn’t have it! I destroyed it!” Aurora says quickly. “When the ring broke, my power went into her. Not me. She’s the one who has the other half of my essence now. She… She is the ring.”

“We take them both to Conri,” Evander declares. “It will be up to the king of the wolves, alpha of all packs, to decide what is to be done. He will want to meet the human that stole the spirit of the moon.”

“Aurora? I did not expect to see you again so soon.” “I hoped to never see you again,” she remarks dryly. “No offense, Rhave.” “None taken.”

“She will share my tent,” Aurora declares, much to my relief. But Evander has other intentions. “She is with me.” “Excuse me?” I blink, startled. “Come,” he snaps, and starts off toward the tent, farthest to the right. “I am not comfortable with this.” I don’t move, instead widening my stance as though I’m bracing myself.

“You will not be comfortable with much of anything if your wounds aren’t attended to,” he says in one of the lowest voices I’ve ever heard. Words reserved only for me. “I’m fine,” I insist. “Don’t lie to me.” He leans forward, inhaling deeply. “I can smell how much blood you lost; you’re beginning to stink a lot like death.” “Telling a lady she stinks. You really know all the right things to say, don’t you?” I fold my arms, ignoring the pain in my shoulders and just how right he is. “Sarcastic remarks aren’t going to mend your injuries.” “I can look after myself.” “Ah, yes, because a witch from the Natural World knows so much about Midscape.” His tone grows thin with annoyance. “I’m quite resourceful.” “I’m sure you are.” Oddly, the agreement sounds sincere. “But you will find no horsetail or rose here to stave the bleeding. No willow, elm, or chamomile.” He leans slightly more forward. “You might be able to summon your marigold spirit, but will that be enough?” Before I can answer, his eyes flick over to Aurora and then back to me with a knowing glint. “And think of what you’re risking on her behalf by allowing your strength to be sapped like this—you could be making her more vulnerable to illness, or death, even.” My hands ball fists of my cloak. I am a witch of the wood. I am powerful and can see to my own wounds without help from this manipulative cur. But, sometimes, true power is knowing when to accept help, Grandma’s voice reminds me from the Beyond.

“Here.” Evander retrieves a small bottle, following some rummaging around in his bag. He pulls out the stopper and hands it to me. “Drink this.” “What is it?” I sniff, trying to discern the ingredients in the tonic. “Not poison. I’m not going to kill you when you have Aurora’s magic within you.” He’s back to rummaging. “The paragon of kindness, aren’t you? Saving me, healing me, only so that your wolf king can do as he likes with me and Aurora once you deliver us to him.” I give the liquid a swirl, peering into the bottle. It doesn’t seem out of the ordinary, so far as I can tell. “I am nothing more than a prisoner to you.” “I could show you how we lykin treat our prisoners, if you’d like. Though I will assure you, it is far more unkind than the decency humans usually give.” He shoots me a glare. “At least, this way, you will be of sound mind and body to beg for the wolf king’s mercy.” “I do not beg.” “That’s what they all say before they are under his claws.”

“She is not something to be traded and used,” I object, louder than I intended, but my emotions are running hot on her behalf. I clutch the little bottle with white knuckles. “She’s a noble spirit, one of the most ancient to walk among us.” “Are we to let her go and give up the power she offers our kind? Even now, without the ring in the possession of a lykin, our powers are beginning to wane to what they once were.” “That is your natural state!” “Is it? For our ability to take our wolf forms only came about when we swore a blood bond to the ancient wolf spirit.” He arches his brows. “Or should we revoke that, too? Truly return to what is ‘natural?’” “That depends, are you holding that wolf spirit captive for the sake of your transformations?” “It is free to come and go,” he reluctantly admits. “As it should be.” There is nothing but bitterness in my words. “The brutality you show spirits is truly breathtaking.” “I—” Evander stops his objection with a shake of his head. When he returns his attention to me, a thin, crescent smile arcs across his lips. His words are pure malice and the jar quivers in his hands from his grip. “You’re right. We are a brutal people. Aurora’s suffering is but one page in a long tome of my kind’s viciousness. Alphas of packs have unflinchingly killed boys and girls that might have been a challenge to them. Our grasses are watered with the blood of those who lost age-old battles for supremacy. Entire packs were wiped out by men and women in search...

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Evander says it so softly that I think I imagine it. “What?” I ask, hoping I did. “I can hear how fast your heart is beating… Faelyn, I won’t hurt you.” “What makes you think I will ever be able to trust you?” My hands move to the wounds on my shoulders, exposing my stomach and lower chest in the process. “Nothing.” He chuckles softly. The sound lacks all joy; it’s fueled by bitterness. “Nor should you.” “Contradicting yourself isn’t exactly inspiring confidence.” I finish up, wiping the remaining salve on my trousers before lacing them back up. “I’m done.” “It isn’t?” Evander turns at the same time as I do, our eyes meeting once more. “Are you certain? Because your heart slowed.” “It slowed because my pants were done up again. Don’t flatter yourself.” “Are you saying taking off your pants around me makes your heart race?” There’s the bare minimum of a smirk.

“Take the bedroll,” he repeats. “I’ll take the ground.” “How kind,” I sneer. “I try, just for you.” He mocks me with a smile.

“You’re not going to lull me into a false sense of security,” I caution. “You told me what your people are capable of.” “Good that you remember. It’d be even more dangerous if you forgot. Your caution might be the only thing that keeps you alive here in Midscape.” He settles on the ground next to the bedroll. I hope it’s full of spiky shells and rocks. I hope the sand chafes and grinds and gets in his ears. “Other than me.” “You’re keeping me alive?” I snort softly in disbelief as I lay down. The moment I’m horizontal, exhaustion hits me all at once. My lids are immediately heavy. “Yes, Faelyn, I am,” he insists softly. “For your king.”

“Hungry?” He stretches languidly. “Obviously.” Evander sniffs. “It smells like Aurora or Bardulf has already begun taking care of the matter.” I mirror his action. There’s a faint aroma of charred fish on the air. “Let’s hope it’s Aurora.” I retrieve my satchels from the corner of the tent, glancing into the bags to make sure all my rations are there. “I didn’t steal from you while you slept.” Evander props his head on his knuckles, lounging. “For your sake I hope not.” I give him a sidelong glance. “So feisty, even first thing in the morning. Where do you find the energy?” Evander snorts. “And you shouldn’t hope it’s Aurora. For being mortal—more or less—for thousands of years, you’d think she would’ve learned how to cook.”

“What is your relationship with Aurora?” I dare to ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “She’s the moon spirit, I’m a knight of the wolf king, I keep her safe,” he says simply, placidly. The answer sounds practiced and void of sincerity. “I don’t covet her, if that’s what you’re getting at.” “No? You wouldn’t want to claim her and be king?” The words are as bitter as ash in my mouth. “I assure you, I’ve little interest in being the wolf king. It’s not a role with longevity.” I turn to study him. I can’t shake the feeling there’s more that he’s not saying. But I’m not going to pry. Yet.

“And just what are you two doing? Scheming?” His voice is thick with sleep, still, and lacks its usual bite. But that doesn’t mean the warning isn’t there. “Breakfast.” Aurora finishes her fish with one large bite and tosses the wooden skewer into the bonfire. I follow her lead. “And what about us?” Bardulf crosses with purpose. “Where are our fish?” “In the sea?” He grabs her elbow. “Well go get them for us.” “Let her go.” I close the gap and grab his forearm, glaring up at the man. “You. Let me. Go. Before my patience and kindness wears thin.” He bares his teeth at me. “I have no idea where this ‘kindness’ of which you speak has been.” I narrow my eyes and don’t move. “You’re breathing, aren’t you?” “Careful, the bar is so low you might trip.” Bardulf snaps at me, teeth slamming together so hard my own are stinging. “All of you, let each other go.” Evander is up. He throws his pack into the sand in front of him and begins to pull down his tent. “It’s too early for this.” I keep my attention on Bardulf. “You first.” “You,” he quips back.

“We ride them,” Aurora explains. “I’m…sorry?” I look between her and the wolves. “It’s faster than walking.” She starts for Bardulf. “Would you like to—uh—ride Evander, instead?” I fight laughter at the absurdity of the question. Must my mind really venture to the most inappropriate of places? Aurora bites her lower lip, holding back a chuckle. She must’ve known where my thoughts wandered. “He wants you on him.” A snort escapes me. Her grin says the phrasing was on purpose. “Bardulf is fine with me. At least in this form they can’t speak.” Bardulf’s lips peel away from his teeth in a snarl. But he doesn’t snap or change his form. “Yes, that’s much improved, indeed.” I cross to Evander, who looks back at me from the corner of one large, silvery eye. I’m sure I’m imagining it…but I think I see amusement alight. I can’t stop a slight smile. Though the expression falls from my face the moment I look to the wide swath of fur before me.

“My magic, my essence, lives in her now, Conri. So do take care not to tear her flesh from her bones. She’s of far more value to both of us alive and well.”

“Long ago, Bewulf the Uniter fell in love with the spirit of the moon. With her power, he brought together the squabbling packs for an era of peace. A time of triumph and domination by our ancestors in these misty plains. This time of unity and prosperity is what I have aspired to return us to as your king. One moon. One wolf.” Howling follows the statement. Some thump their fists against their chests. Others gnash their teeth with excitement. “We have had our time of peace. Of living under one banner. But there has been something calling me. Drawing me toward a greatness yet unknown. I would see it in the stars and hear it in the whispers of the wind. But I did not know what it was…until she stood before me.” Conri gestures toward me, still holding my hand. I realize his grip has tightened some. He’s preventing me from running. Not that I have anywhere to go. Surely he knows the threat Evander and Bardulf have both made to me. “Like Bewulf the Uniter, I have been taken by a creature of astounding beauty. Whose meeting is one of unexpected serendipity and, now that she is before me, can only be described as my destiny. For hers is a kind vanishing from this world faster than our own. In her is the blood of a rare breed of human—those who had begun to master the dormant magic buried within them, gifted by the old gods but untapped.” Murmuring now. Women and men exchange confused and worried glances. Children are growing restless from the length of Conri’s speech. Though no ...

“I realize you must be stunned by the great honor I have bestowed upon you since you think yourself unworthy, no doubt. But I assure you that, with all the power you have to offer me, and Aurora’s magic within you, you will be a fitting mate.” “I have no interest in being your mate,” I say bluntly so there can be no misunderstanding. He pauses, mid packing. His back is still to me, and his shoulders tense slightly, drawing toward his ears. “Or your wife. Or being with you for any extended period at all in any way.”

“Excellent, you will be a good girl for me, won’t you?” He runs a finger down my cheek as he releases my rear. “No trouble as we make our way to Gualla and the ancient wood beyond?” “I…” I croak. Unable to find words. Everything is catching up to me with horrible clarity. “No, no, you will be no trouble. You will be my good girl now, tomorrow, and…” He leans forward to whisper in my ear. “…in weeks from now when we arrive at the old wood and I bend you over in front of all my pack to take you beneath the moon, filling your belly with my heirs.” The words are so shocking that I can’t react to them before he leaves—murmuring something to Evander and clasping him on the shoulder. I’m left breathless. Stunned. Horrified. Utterly disgusted with myself. Am I that desperate? That pathetic? It doesn’t matter how sweet his tongue is, that man is Aurora’s captor. And I just willingly handed myself to him.

“And here I thought that you were a noble witch of character, powerful enough to resist his charm,” he growls. “Excuse me?” Evander stalks over, his muscles rippling with tension. Fists clenched. He looms over me. “You…” “Me? What?” I gather myself and stand a little taller. The only judgment I will accept is my own, and Aurora’s. I’m certainly not giving that power to this brutish lykin. “Did you like the way his tongue in your mouth felt? Did it set you ablaze the way you’d hoped it would?” “What does it matter to you?” I snap. I continue before he can get in another word, “I’ve spent my whole life with people looking at me sideways—for good or ill. With people judging me for all I did and did not do. And you know what? Their assessments of me have made no difference. So what makes you think I will expend any effort to care about yours?” He folds his arms and cocks his head back, pulling away slightly. “What about Aurora? I thought you cared about her.” The words strike me straight through the chest, as sure and true as a hunter’s arrow. “My relationship with Aurora is between her and me alone. Stay out of it.” “Fine. If you wish. Then I won’t concern myself with bringing you to her.” He shrugs. “She would probably be heartbroken, anyway, to find out what you really are.” I still have several choice words for Evander. But there’s only one thing he said that I choose to focus on. “You can take me to her? She’s still here?” “Of course she is. Conri wouldn’t allow her out o...

“Evander is a dog on a leash attached to an unkind collar,” Aurora interrupts me. “He is a harsh man, certainly. But that is because it is how he has been made. The world has been cruel to him and returning that cruelty is the only way he knows how to survive.” “That is not an excuse,” I remind her. “But it is an explanation,” she says gently. “Which can help us understand him. Evander is the very last of an ancient pack, one that was among the few who stood against Conri’s father.”

“Faelyn, were it not for him I would not have been able to escape at all.” She touches my elbow, summoning my attention back to her. “He never explained it, or said so, but I am certain he intentionally created the opening I needed to flee.” “So he could claim you for his own.” “If that were his intent, he would’ve pursued me the moment I had the ring and left Conri’s watchful eye.” Aurora pauses, staring out over the plains. “The moon only witnesses half the day. There are things that are invisible to even my sight. I do not know what Evander’s motivations are and they don’t always make sense to me. But I do believe he is a decent man in his heart. I’ve seen enough bad ones to know the good. His exterior has merely been twisted by the circumstances he’s been given.”

“So his power is to…ensure the longevity of the pack?” I’m amazed I can ask the question when my mind is filled with words like mate, and filling my belly with—stop, Faelyn, I command myself. “He is irresistible to mortal women because of a unique charm he possesses as the alpha.” Aurora frowns, looking back at camp. Evander had mentioned Conri’s “charm,” too. I had thought it just a turn of phrase before. “I have seen proud women make fools of themselves in a desperate attempt for a moment in his bed.” “What can I do to protect myself from this ‘charm?’” I ask. “Your cape should help, some.” No wonder Conri refused to allow me to have it earlier. The moment I had it back on, my head was notably clearer. “There’s good protection woven in that fabric.” Perhaps if I can get my grandmother’s threads and dyes back from Evander, I could figure out some kind of spell to weave into the cape specifically to guard me from Conri. “Otherwise, it is a matter of allowing your head to be as clear as possible around him. The more excitable you are, the harder it will be for you to resist him.” “When you say ‘excitable’ you mean…” I can’t possibly have the right assumption. There’s no way she means what I think she does. But the way Aurora speaks leaves no room for doubt. “Ensure you are satisfied, Faelyn, or you might give in and ask him to do it for you.”

The longer I try to make sense of Evander, the harder he is to understand. There’s so much to him. Every turned stone reveals deeper secrets still. Never have I met someone so frustrating, but also so intriguing.

“What are you singing?” Aurora asks, interrupting my focus. “Oh.” I hadn’t even realized I’d begun to hum. “I’m not sure. It’s just something Grandma would always do when she worked on the cape.” A slight smile curves her lips. “It is like a siren song.” “I don’t think I’m luring sailors to their deaths anytime soon.” I grin in reply. Aurora chuckles. “Sirens use songs to draw out their magic. They are often the music of the soul—which is in the tongue of the old gods that came before us all. A very ancient form of magic, that.” “I didn’t learn any words of old gods, either.” I keep focused on my stitches. I’m nearly finished. “That you know of.” Aurora leans back, resting her palms behind her. “To think, the mystery of unlocking human’s magic was merely to apply the right combination of all the others…”

“What else can I do to fend off his charm? I won’t allow myself to succumb to it again; I will not give in.” “Keep your cape on for as long as possible. Seek out my magic through this. Let it ground you.” Her fingertips touch the hastily made bracelet. “And, if you can…you should try to find your own satisfaction before he can elicit the need.” That suggestion is back. My cheeks are surely blazing now. “Could you…step outside?” Aurora purses her lips. “I don’t think I could without suspicion. But I have an idea.” “What?” I’m ready to take any suggestion, any advice that might help. I will not betray Aurora again by giving into Conri. “Evander,” she calls to the entrance of the tent. Oh, old gods…anything but that.

“Is there anything Conri doesn’t control?” Everything Evander said was hedged with, “so long as Conri wishes.”

“Tell me, what was it like before the wolf king?” I think of Aurora’s story, that there was a time before the packs were united as one. That Evander was born in one of the last such dissenting packs. “I wasn’t born then. I’m not that old.” He must be thinking the same thing. “Are you sure? Given how curmudgeonly you are, I’d guess you’re at least a few thousand years.” He snorts and shifts his weight, facing me. “How old do you think I am, Faelyn?”

“Answer me one question first,” I finally say, before giving my guess. He raises his brows and says nothing. “Do lykin age in the same way as humans?” He hums. “I’m not sure if I should answer that.” “You should, if you don’t want me guessing you’re in your hundreds.” Evander grabs his chest, fingers pressing into the bare skin. “You wound me. Hundreds?” He chuckles, shrugging it off at my smile. “All occupants of Midscape live and die in the same way as humans. None of us are blessed with lifespans greater than your kind. Save for Aurora in her unnatural state.” “Then, I would say you are…twenty-eight.” He grabs his chest again, more sudden, and sways back as though he has been physically struck. “You wound me again. I look so old?” “Twenty-eight is not old.” I laugh from the bottom of my stomach. I’m reminded of a time when I was younger, when I told Grandma that I couldn’t wait to be “old”—and, by old, I meant in my twenties. She howled with laughter to the point that I thought the roof shingles of our hut shook. He grins, recovering from the mock offense. “I’m twenty-three.” “Only a year older than me?” “Is it that surprising?” He looks back out across the grasses. “You seem…older.” “Now you’re making a game of offending me.” “More grizzled than a man of twenty-three.” “You know, you’re not helping the situation.” He glances at me from the corners of his eyes. I try to fight a sly little smile and lose. “Some men would be pleased to hear they come off as mature and sta...

“It is a spirit,” Evander affirms my suspicions. “His name is Devlan. He’s a fire spirit much like your Folost.” “But much larger.” “There are many types of fire, many types of spirits.” He takes a step forward to approach the flame with the gathering pack. I catch his wrist, a bolt of clarity surging through me. “This spirit, was he the one you used to set fire to my barriers and burn down my home?” Evander’s eyes widen a fraction, but are quickly narrowed again by his furrowing brow. His expression borders on disgust. Hatred, even. My grip slackens. “I told you that I am not a good person.” He leans forward slightly. “Don’t be surprised when you are presented with proof of it.” Evander rips his wrist from my grasp and starts toward the bonfire. But I am rooted. Stuck. Staring at the broad back of the man who was capable of burning down my home even after he had Aurora. I rush forward, stepping around him before we reach the rest of the pack. We’re still in a mostly secluded place between two tents. Not private, but no one seems to be focusing on us—they’re all too drawn to the flame and the food being placed before it. “Why? You had her, didn’t you? Why burn down the house? Did you do it because you wanted to—because you could? Or because he told you to?” I demand to know, even though nausea is rippling through me, riding on waves of fear at the answer. His rage at being stopped again dissipates instantly at my questioning. It’s a slipping of his angry mask once more, be...

“One more thing.” I stop him for a final time. “Really, it’s the last thing,” I assure his agitated expression. “My barrier, how did you⁠—” “You suspected correctly. I used the fire spirit to burn through it,” he says, matter-of-fact. Never have I hated being right. “Almost couldn’t do it, though. No physical items worked and the spirit was nearly not strong enough.” “So my magic wasn’t bad,” I whisper. “Quite the contrary.” The corners of Evander’s lips tug slightly, as though he is fighting a smile.

“Do what you need quickly; we shouldn’t linger or someone might take notice.” His voice has dropped to a hush. I can’t tell if he truly has no idea about what the goal of this little escape is or not. “Then can you please step outside for a few minutes?” “No.” That brings my attention back to him. At my pointed stare, he elaborates, “I can’t linger outside and risk being seen without you. Conri has charged me personally with your care.” “And sneaking off with me into a tent, alone, is better?” I ask, somewhat curious, somewhat annoyed that he isn’t just doing as I want. This would be so much simpler if I could just be done with it. “No one saw us come in. Others will likely assume that we’re in another area of camp.” He folds his arms. “Don’t let me stop you from doing whatever magic it is Aurora has charged you with.” As he speaks, my cheeks are warming. “I assure you, I have seen all manner of magic and⁠—” “It’s not magic,” I interject. The heat has nearly reached the tops of my ears. Thank goodness for the near total darkness of the night. I hope his lykin sight isn’t keen enough for him to behold my embarrassment. His arms fall to his sides. “What, then?” I inhale deeply and exhale any traces of shame. “I need to relieve myself.” He blinks. “The camp latrines are⁠—” “No, you dense man, I need to satisfy myself in a carnal way to remove some of the temptation of Conri’s charm.” I lock eyes with his and say the words slowly and clearly, refusing to allow for any misconce...

Think of someone else, literally anyone else… Then, my mind takes a turn I wasn’t expecting. Perhaps it is the smell of the cot. The location. His proximity…but the phantom sensation of Evander’s arms slipping around me overtakes me once more. I feel his breath, hot on my neck. As if he’s really there…

The better question is why, out of everyone, out of all possible fantasies I tried to conjure, was Evander the only one that Conri’s magic charm couldn’t break through?

“I need to know if you’re really on our side.” I still don’t know why he would be. But his actions suggest he is. Evander’s motivations are obscured, but I’m not going to question them when we need all the help we can get. Finally, after what feels like forever, he offers me a slow nod. “I will always be on your side, Faelyn.”

“Even someone of the least skill, and smallest stature, can do incredible things. I might be a ‘little witch’ but I am also your friend’s ally and currently her best chance to be free. Do not mistake stature for capability.” The earth spirit tilts her head in the opposite direction. I continue, “And I would not want you at my ‘beck and call.’ I respect you, Lady Brundil. I wouldn’t waste your time. But I do not think asking you to help us escape would be a waste.”

“I know someone must have told you of my charm and you are doing all you can to resist it. I know you are most likely conspiring with Aurora to use her magic, in some way that I do not understand, to help subdue the influence.” I open my mouth to object, not wanting Aurora to be dragged into this. She’s already on thin enough ice with him. The last thing I want is for her to face more unintended consequences. He stops me by raising a hand, that sly smile still curling his lips. “I don’t have to know. In fact, I think I like it better not knowing.” “What?” I’m too surprised to think of what my gasp of a word might be giving away. “You see, Faelyn…” Conri rests both his palms on my knees and slowly slides them up my thighs. He pushes open my legs, placing himself between them as he shifts and leans forward. “It has been years since I last could enjoy the chase of a woman. Years. It’s all well and good to have people throwing themselves at you. But it grows…dull.” His lips split into a smirk, teeth shining. “I am a predator by nature; the hunt is in my blood.” His chest presses against mine. It compresses my breath. My head spins with his proximity. Every breath I take is on his exhale. The world has become so very small. “So continue resisting me. Let me work for you. Let me show you how deep my desire runs. Make me ache for you—yearn for you. Show me your ferocity and watch how hard it makes me. It’ll make the taste when I finally do have you that much sweeter.” His lips al...

“Conri?” I dare. “Faelyn.” He is still awake. “Would there be another way to ensure stability for the lykin other than marrying you⁠—” He stops me. “Faelyn, a mere few days without the moon spirit in hand and someone moved against me. Pups were killed—children were killed merely because they were of my pack. That is one matter I cannot compromise on. I need the power of the moon spirit to keep the peace.” “And if that power were to be set free? Where would that leave me?” A pause. “Do you have a way to do that?” Freeing Aurora of her bonds and restoring her as a full spirit. But I’m not going to say that aloud… “No.” “Well, then it sounds like you have little to worry about. So, yes, you will marry me, Faelyn. That I am afraid I need. But”—he reaches over, taking my hand in his—“I hope that I can be a man you would consider yourself honored to have as your husband. That perhaps one day you will learn to not only tolerate me in your bed, but, infinitely better, to welcome me in your heart.” The words seem sweet, and pure. Simple. Could it really be that simple? “I know how my pack speaks of me. But I ask you earnestly, give me the chance,” he continues. “Learn who I truly am for yourself. See my love for my people—love that will extend to you. Let me win your heart. If you give in you might find you enjoy the chase, too.”

“Did he do anything untoward last night?” I look up at the knight. “My ‘sworn protector,’” I say softly. “Tell me, would you even protect me from him, if it came to it?” “Without doubt.” There’s no hesitation. Hardly a delay at all, even. I don’t know if he would’ve had the same answer when we arrived at Midscape almost a week ago. “Evander—” “I know what he is, what he’s capable of. He has asked me to do and defend many heinous acts, but there are some that not even I will abide.” “What he’s capable of…” I repeat softly, my gaze drifting back to the slowly sloping hills. “He didn’t hurt me, Evander. Quite the contrary. The extra cot was to make me more comfortable because he expects nothing of me.”

“Evander, do you think that there is a chance that, maybe, Conri could help free Aurora?” The question is quiet. Small. “No.” The word is void of doubt. “Even if there was a way to keep the lykin strong and united without her?” The conversation from the night prior continues to play in my mind. “Conri would slaughter half the packs if it meant keeping Aurora’s power solely to himself. He’d be a king of bones before being just another man.” “It’s hard to reconcile what you tell me with what he says,” I admit. Evander grabs my arm, pulling my attention to him. He locks eyes with me. “Do not be drawn into him, through charm or whatever honeyed falsehood he espouses. Conri is not someone you can trust. He is not your ally, Faelyn.” “But he hasn’t hurt me, so far,” I point out. “Other than forcing you to marry him.” “Given the position he’s in, it’s⁠—” “Do not make excuses for him,” Evander cuts me off coldly. “He is a king; there is always a way for a king to make what he wants happen, if he deems it important enough. He is the one who holds the power and makes the rules. If he wanted you to be free—Aurora to be free—you both would be. But instead he keeps you hoarded like treasures that are for him alone. Ready to kill anyone who so much as looks at you for too long.” I sigh and shift uncomfortably, keeping my attention over the landscape. “Perhaps what’s happened with Aurora has scared him? Maybe he wants to start fresh with a new way of leading?” “No. Not Conri.” The words ...

“It is impressive to watch a witch work,” Conri appraises as we start walking in the direction of the next marigold bloom. “Your ability to summon spirits is uncanny.” “Evander summoned a water spirit for our passage.” “Evander is an odd lykin.” Conri laughs lightly. “It is best not to use him as a measure for the rest of us. And he is far less graceful than you with these skills.” “Odd how?” I ask, trying to sound casual despite my deep curiosity. “Careful, Faelyn, or I might be jealous of you inquiring about another man.” Conri says the words easily enough, but I see the flash of warning in his eyes. I laugh and link my arm with his. “I am only asking if I need to be worried about my sworn protector.” “Ah, nothing like that, my dear.” He pats my forearm. “While the lykin can see spirits, we cannot commune or bond with them in the same way as a witch. It is what makes our oath to the great wolf spirit so unique, and a notable exception—we cannot simply call upon spirits as we please, or communicate with them.” I imagine that is also what makes Aurora so valuable to them… If they cannot call upon spirits, then they hoard what power they do have from them. “There are some lykin who have an easier time harnessing our power and seeking out spirits than others, for one reason or another. But even then, it is not guaranteed the spirits will oblige. We cannot command their loyalty as you can.” His wording grates. “I do not command spirits.” “No?” He motions to the small flowers ...

“I don’t know the politics of Midscape or half its magics.” I pause to look up and meet his eyes. “But what I do know is that a king who is only able to be king because of entrapping another is no real ruler. He is a coward.”

“If you’re on my side, then why wouldn’t you⁠—” “Be willing to work with Conri?” Evander raises his brows. The firelight glows on half of his face, casting the other half in a deep shadow. “Because that is one of the few things that would be worse than death. Don’t give in to him, Faelyn. His words are lies. His actions are a smokescreen for his intent. He can’t be trusted.” “Yet, he continues to give me space. He listens to me when I speak. He even knows that I am working to resist his charm,” I speak hastily, getting the words out before Evander can launch another objection. “He what?” Evander hisses. “He knows I am resisting him and he is not forcing the matter,” I say. “That is why he gave me another cot. Why he is allowing me space and time as I need and please.” Evander purses his lips, brow furrowing into a severe expression. He murmurs, “That is not good.” “So far my life has been much improved here since my hesitation toward him came out.” “Faelyn, he is not a man who does well not getting what he wants.” “He said he likes the hunt.” I pull the meat from the flame and turn the potatoes again. Evander grabs my wrist, bringing my attention back to him. “Yes, he loves the hunt. But what do you think will happen if he doesn’t get his prey at the end of it?” Evander continues to pin me with his stare. His expression is more demanding than his question. “Don’t know? That’s because, one way or another, Conri always gets his prey. He might be playing nicely with you now, ...

“He knows what’s been happening—more or less. That I’ve been resisting him…” I quickly recap her on the events of the past day. Her expression is impossible to read the entire time I speak. “… But I’m thinking that, if he’s sincere, maybe there is a way for us all to get what we want.” “Not with him. Not Conri,” she says finally, shaking her head slowly. “He will want you to believe it’s possible. But there is no way he’d ever give in.” “And maybe he doesn’t have to, not really,” I say hastily. Her words echo Evander’s and I feel more and more foolish by the moment for starting to trust Conri. “Maybe we can use him long enough to get what we need. If he thinks we’re on his side, we can use that to our advantage.” Aurora considers this. “I’d rather you didn’t.” I sigh heavily. “You and Evander…you both have given me such warnings about him. And I do believe you both.” I glance toward the tent flap, hoping my voice is low enough that Evander doesn’t overhear. “But Conri hasn’t been the man that you’ve claimed. At least not to me. Maybe he really is trying to change and grow?” “I have stood beside hundreds of wolf kings, and each one of them becomes as corrupted by their power as the last.” “Aurora, we mortals aren’t a monolith. I know you have endured hundreds of years of hardship. But every single person has the capacity to change, if they want it.” “If they want it,” she repeats, emphasizing. “He never will.” I rest my elbow on my knee and sink my head into my palm. “I jus...

Every morning I wake, thinking I will have more clarity than the last. But I only feel more muddled and confused.

He never meant that the power would be in his bloodline by bedding me… He is going to kill me.

“I am sorry you had to find out that way. But I couldn’t let you go on thinking there was hope for an alliance with him. Not when I learned of his plans.” “The only thing I am sorry for is that I was gullible enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.” Rage, not sorrow, softens my voice. “Hoping for reason and seeing the best in people are hallmarks of a good heart. They’re not a reason to be upset with yourself.”